Page 296 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

It was the noises coming through the thin walls of this place that gave me an idea.

What skills did I have? I could cook, and I could sing.

There was a bar right down the hall, what if I walked in there, belted out a few songs, and then held out a cup for coins?

My skin prickled at the thought, nerves clenching in my belly.

I’d never done anything that crazy, not sober, at least.

Looking at the peacefully sleeping Novalee—her pink face with the splattering of purple and blue starburst freckles—I knew I had to do something.

Eoin was cute and handsome asleep too, the hard angles of his face softened in repose.

Thinking about both of them filled my chest with warmth.

I knew Eoin and I couldn’t see eye to eye on many things, that we clashed all the time, and mostly, that he wanted to coddle me until I felt smothered. I still loved him. So I had to try.

Getting to my feet, I did my best with the long, wide piece of black cloth I’d dug up from the cargo hold that morning.

It seemed like ages ago now, and I’d already gotten very familiar with how to wrap myself in it so that my face and figure were obscured.

Not the best for a performance, but maybe the mystery would intrigue people.

I took the cup out of the bathroom to collect money and double-checked that I had the laser pistol back in my holster, and that it still had some charge left.

Stepping out of that hotel room took me at least two more minutes, focusing on just breathing through the nerves.

When that door finally swished open and I stepped outside, it felt like a weight dropping from my shoulders.

Full of purpose, I strode down the narrow, dirty corridor.

In the lobby, I spared the older Asrai male only a single glance before I turned and headed into the bar.

It was the more popular part of this place, it seemed—bodies packed around the bar three deep, each table filled with patrons and females clad in scanty bits of lace fluttering from customer to customer, trying to entice them.

So, this was a brothel too. No wonder the bar was packed, a blue-skinned alien girl danced on the stage to the rhythm of a sultry beat.

In my head, songs immediately started to pop up that could fit this atmosphere, probably not too many from my Broadway days, short as my budding career had been.

There were plenty of pop songs I knew by heart that fit this vibe.

I worried that getting up to sing would make them think I was going to strip or something, or what if the girl on stage thought I was stealing her money, her limelight?

This was my best shot at getting money together to help Eoin, so I battled the nerves—a much more familiar kind this time—and just got on with it.

Getting up on the stage took just a few agile twists around some patrons and a leap onto the platform.

The dancing girl froze, staring at me, her heavily made-up eyes huge and dark, long hair writhing against her back, and her bare boobs perky and also right in my face.

Ignoring that—and the suddenly approaching, linebacker-sized male from the side—I opened my mouth and started singing.

It was difficult to pitch my tone over the throbbing beat that filled the place, but only a few bars in, the crowd silenced.

The bouncer stopped his advance to stare at me just like the rest of the patrons, and then someone turned the beat down until it was mostly my voice filling the space.

I didn’t dance—afraid that would really give the wrong idea—I just sang, watching what it did to the crowd.

I hadn’t sung like that on a stage in almost a year, and it was exhilarating to stand there and mesmerize a crowd.

I regularly sang for my friends on the Vagabond, but that wasn’t the same as this, where there were so many faces that they blurred together.

When the song finished and I paused to gather my wits for the next one, it felt like the entire audience was holding their breath in anticipation.

Had I ever held an audience this spellbound on Earth? I didn’t think so. Maybe it was just so foreign and alien to them, or maybe I’d gotten better… Whatever this was, I’d take it. I hoped it meant they’d willingly pay up when I finished. How many songs should I do? Three? Five?

The dancing girl’s wide eyes had shifted to a more calculating look as she circled around me and danced to what I sang.

I thought she was trying to make it seem like she was the main act, and I was just the music she was dancing to.

I was sure it didn’t work, she’d frozen up too much during that first one.

When I finished the fifth song, my throat felt parched, and I was worried that I’d start to lose the attention of the crowd.

As soon as I finished, I dipped into a bow, making sure to keep my head covered by the scarf.

Then I held out the cup to the people in the front row, and, much to my surprise, credit chips appeared and clanked into the small cup.

I heard the girl hiss at me when I left the stage, angry that I was stealing her tips. I felt bad about that, but I also felt excited that it had worked. As I worked my way around the room, even people from the bar turned around to drop a chip into my cup.

I tried to make it look like it was never more than half full, sneaking some chips out and into my pockets when I walked, scared I’d drop them if someone bumped into me.

It was this that probably saved most of my hard-earned money when I started to leave the bar.

The bouncer and the older Asrai male from the front desk suddenly closed ranks in front of me, and my heart rate immediately skyrocketed.

“That was some act in there,” the Asrai drawled, everything about his tone sleazy and mean.

The bouncer was a huge alien with bulging muscles and thick, leathery skin.

I wasn’t sure what kind of alien he was, but he was definitely the kind that might just shrug off the first few shots from a laser pistol.

I didn’t respond to their words, my panicked brain scrambling to find the best way out of this.

If they discovered I was human—if any of the patrons behind me did—I doubted they’d help me.

Eoin was right about that part: the Zeta Quadrant, and especially Yengar Station, were extremely dangerous places for a lone human woman to be.

“So where’s our share of the money? You need to pay us for the use of the stage!

” the Asrai said. That’s when I drew in a breath, shook out the credit chips still in the cup, and counted out three of them.

I knew I was lowballing them badly with the amount I offered; I hoped they’d just demand double, not question how much I’d made.

The bouncer said nothing, his beady black eyes scanning my hand and cup quickly, then lifting to restlessly scan the crowd in the bar.

It was the older Asrai who shrewdly calculated what was in my cup, what I offered him in my hand, and what he thought I owed him.

“That’s a start. Five hundred more and we’re even,” he said, his black-clawed hand reaching out to grab my cup.

I dodged back, but the bouncer was lightning-quick, suddenly grabbing me tightly by the upper arm.

Those fingers squeezed like a vise, digging into my skin—little sharp points piercing my flesh where his nails were.

The Asrai was making a tsking noise, but he settled when I reached into the cup to offer up the demanded amount of credits he wanted.

As quickly as they had accosted me, they released me, and I found myself hurrying across the tiny lobby toward the exit.

My heart was pounding, but part one of my mission was a success.

Now I just had to get the supplies, it shouldn’t be hard, as long as I remembered how I’d walked so I wouldn’t end up lost.